Ickle Firsties
by isthisrubble
Summary: On the first of December 2017, four students are among the first years boarding the Hogwarts Express. What will their first day bring?
1. The Journey From Platform 9 & 3 quarters

Scorpius Malfoy heaved his trunk after him as he made his way down the train. The trunk was heavy, but he hadn't found an empty compartment to dump it in yet.

He pushed open the door to the next carriage and nearly ran into the back of a boy his age. He looked rather lost.

'Oh! Sorry.' The boy helped Scorpius get his trunk through the door, then straightened self-consciously. 'Are you a first year, too?'

Scorpius nodded. 'Are you looking for a compartment? I am.'

The boy also nodded, looking relieved. 'My name's Michael Garrow. What's yours?'

'Scorpius Malfoy.' Scorpius waited for the flinch, for Michael to recognise his surname, but he didn't. Must be a Muggle-born.

In an unspoken agreement, they started down the train together. By Scorpius' calculations, this was the second-last carriage, so if they didn't find an empty compartment soon, they were in trouble.

The last compartment was the emptiest they'd seen so far. There were two people in there, a boy and a girl about their age. Michael glanced back at Scorpius. His face quite clearly said: _What choice do we have?_

Scorpius nodded, and Michael opened the door.

'Anyone sitting here?' He asked, gesturing to the empty backwards-facing seats. The boy shook his head. He offered to help them with their trunks, and together they managed to lift them into the overhead baskets.

As he sat down, Scorpius examined the boy and girl more closely. The girl was taller than him, with bushy auburn hair and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. The boy had messy black hair and piercing green eyes. He looked like Harry Potter. A lot like Harry Potter.

'My name's Rose,' said the girl, smiling at them. 'What's yours?'

'I'm Michael.'

'Scorpius.'

'I'm Al,' said the boy.

Rose giggled. 'Al_bus!_'

Al punched her in the shoulder. '_Don't!_'

Rose saw their confusion. 'We're cousins. His _full_ name is Albus, but we all call him Al.'

'Are you named after Albus Dumbledore?' Michael asked. Al nodded.

Scorpius remembered his mum mentioning in passing that Harry Potter would have a son in his year, but he'd never actually thought what that would mean -

'_Hey!_ You think my name's funny, do you? _You_ can't talk!' Scorpius realised he'd been staring and flushed with embarrassment.

'No, I... _areyouharrypottersson?_' Rose snorted and Michael sat up straighter.

Al looked confused. 'That's my dad's name, yes...' He broke off as Rose descended into a fit of giggles. 'What! _Why are you laughing?_'

Rose managed to control her mirth for long enough to choke out: 'You... have... _no_...idea...'

Al swung round to face Scorpius and Michael. 'What's so special about my dad? I saw people staring at the station but Dad wouldn't say why.' Seeing them hesitate, he added '_Tell me!_'

'Does your dad have glasses and a lightning-bolt scar?' Al nodded and Michael went on: 'How can you _not_ know? Your dad is _the_ Harry Potter, he defeated Voldemort when he was seventeen! Gosh, even I know that and I'm the only wizard in my family!'

Al's eyes were big as saucers. He turned to Rose and demanded to know why _she_ hadn't told him.

'Dad told me not to,' she said simply. 'The only reason you didn't know is because Uncle Harry didn't want you to get a big head.'

Scorpius frowned, suddenly remembering something he'd packed at the last minute. 'Do you really not know anything your dad's done?' Without waiting for an answer, Scorpius stood up on his seat to reach his trunk. He found what he was looking for and presented it to Al: Harry Potter's autobiography. Al stared in surprised, then started to read.

* * *

The miles and hours rolled on. Somehow they never ran out of things to talk about, and Scorpius learned that Al had an older brother, a younger sister and a keen interest in wizard art. Rose had a younger brother who collected toads and Michael had an older sister who was possibly more interested in the wizarding world than he was.

When the witch with the lunch trolley came by, Michael confessed that he'd never eaten any of the things she sold, so they pooled their money and bought some of everything. There was high hilarity when Michael's first chocolate frog card was Harry Potter, and Al got three Albus Dumbledore's. 'I've got at least _ten_ of him, it's like he's following me around or something,' he groaned, giving a card to Michael to add to his growing collection.

Just as Scorpius was considering raising the subject of houses, an older boy opened the door. He looked about a year older than them, with brown hair and eyes. Both Rose and Al seemed to recognise him.

'Hello James,' said Al warily. 'This is my brother,' he elaborated. Then, to James again: 'What do you want?'

'Just saying hello.' He grinned. 'What are you reading?' Al showed him, and James roared with laughter. 'I wondered how long it would take you. Watch out for the fan-girls, Al, they'll go for you even more than me because you _look_ like Dad.'

Al groaned. 'Go away.'

'Certainly, _Slytherin._'

'I'm _not_ a Slytherin!'

'_Yet!_'

As James ran off, Al sunk back into his seat, looking depressed. Obviously houses were a sore subject.

'He's so certain I'll be a Slytherin. Dad says it doesn't matter, but I don't want to be one. James is a Gryffindor...'

'He's only teasing,' said Rose soothingly. 'What houses do you two think you'll be in?'

Michael shrugged. 'I think I'll be a Hufflepuff. It seems about right to me, anyway. What about you?'

'Well... I never really thought about it much, but Dad reckons I've got Mum's brains, and Mum thinks she should have been a Ravenclaw, so I could end up there. But all of Dad's family have been in Gryffindor, so I don't really know. I don't mind either way.'

Scorpius swallowed. They were all looking at him now. He inspected his shoelaces. 'All Malfoy's are Slytherins. I don't think I'm remarkable enough to break the pattern, although Dad wants me to.'

'Well, at least I'll have someone to talk to,' said Al. It all sounded rather morbid.

In an attempt to break the tension, Rose checked her watch and said: 'We'll probably be there soon, we'd better get our robes on.'

They did so in silence.


	2. The Sorting Hat

'Form a line please!'

The first-years did as they were told, lining up behind Professor Longbottom. Michael ended up in-between Scorpius and Al. Rose was near the front of the line. She'd already made friends with two other girls.

They left the chamber behind, walking back into the Entrance Hall and then -

Michael's jaw dropped.

The Great Hall was immense. It was easily the biggest room he'd ever seem, and it was full of people. Michael's primary school had only had a hundred pupils. There was at least five times that many at Hogwarts. The students were sitting at four long tables, and the teachers at another table at the front where they could see all the students. It was towards this table that they were walking, and in front of this table, on a low school, was a wizard's hat.

Once they were lined up in front of the High Table, Michael noticed that all the older students and most of the first years were staring at the Hat, so he stared too.

And then, suddenly, the Hat began to sing:

_'Yet another year has come  
Where I do have to choose  
Which house you will reside in.  
So sit here while I muse!_

_Will you be in Gryffindor_  
_With friends oh so bold?_  
_Maybe if you're brave, this is_  
_How my choice will unfold!_

_Perhaps you'll be in Ravenclaw_  
_With those who care for brains,_  
_If I see you smart enough_  
_Seven years there you'll remain._

_Another choice is Hufflepuff_  
_With friends on which you rely_  
_If I see the trust in you_  
_You'll wear a yellow tie!_

_Or maybe you'll be in Slytherin_  
_With student very cunning,_  
_If I see that talent in you,_  
_From other houses you'll be running._

_No matter what choice I do make,_  
_There's something you must know._  
_These houses must work together_  
_If we're all to grow._

_So take a seat and try me on,_  
_I promise I don't bite!_  
_I'm sure you'll like your seven years_  
_And find our school just right!'*_

Everyone clapped and cheered, and the Hat bowed to each of the tables. Michael looked at them a bit closer and noticed a large population of red-heads at one of the tables. That was the table Al was staring at, so Michael guessed that was the Gryffindor table. A glance too his other side showed Scorpius shooting terrified glances at the far-right table. That must be the Slytherins.

Professor Longbottom had started reading out names.

'Aimsworth, Claire!'

'RAVENCLAW!' Shouted the Hat.

Michael suddenly felt sick. What if he wasn't put in a house? He'd thought maybe Hufflepuff, but now he didn't feel confidant even about that house. Would he be sent home?

'Domanix, Thomas!'

'GRYFFINDOR!'

'Edgebeam, Russel!'

'SLYTHERIN!'

What if he was sorted into Slytherin?

'Garrow, Michael!'

He'd never been so scared in his life. He stumbled over to the stool and sat down. The Professor put the Hat on his head, and all he could see was its inside.

'Well hello there, you look like a bit of a challenge.'

Michael nearly had a heart attack. It was talking to him!

'Well now, you should have expected that. You'll see far stranger things in your time here.' The Hat chuckled. 'Now, I'm fairly sure you're a GRYFFINDOR!'

All the Gryffindors clapped and cheered as Michael sat down with them. Al's brother James thumped him on the back and an older girl shook his hand. Swallowing his relief, Michael turned back to the front.

* * *

Scorpius watched Michael sit down, a knot of despair growing in his stomach. His first real friend his age, and they'd be stuck in different houses.

'Ipper, May!'

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

Scorpius swallowed. He was going to be a Slytherin. He was going to be a Slytherin and there was nothing he could do about it.

'Hitchens, Peter!'

'RAVENCLAW!'

And then...

'Malfoy, Scorpius!'

Scorpius could feel himself shaking as he approached the stool. As the hat slipped over his eyes, he could see the other Slytherin first years shuffling up to make room for him.

'Why, you're an interesting one, aren't you?' Which house should you be in, I wonder?'

Scorpius could hear his heart hammering in his throat as he thought desperately: _Not Slytherin, please not Slytherin_.

'Really? It'd be good for you, you know.'

_I don't want to end up like my dad, _realised Scorpius suddenly. _I don't want what happened to him to happen to me._

'You're a wise one aren't you? You'd better be a GRYFFINDOR!'

There was a shocked silence as Scorpius took off the Hat. Then suddenly the Gryffindor table erupted. Scorpius flopped down next to Michael, slightly stunned. He could see Rose and Al applauding with the rest, and he could feel himself grinning. Now _that_ was something to write home about.

* * *

_Gryffindor?_ Scorpius Malfoy, a _Gryffindor?_ Before Al could work out what that could possibly mean for him, his time had come.

'Potter, Albus!' The Hall filled with whispers as the other students examined this new Potter.

Al was ready to beg, to plead, anything not to be a Slytherin. But the Hat had barely touched his head when it cried:

'GRYFFINDOR!'

He gave the Hat back to Neville (_Professor Longbottom!_) and hurried over to the table. All of his red-head cousins were standing up as they whooped and yelled their approval. Al couldn't stop grinning. James had been wrong.

* * *

Rose bit her lip as the line diminished. What if it put her in Ravenclaw? A Ravenclaw Weasley, she'd never live it down.

And suddenly, she was the only one left.

'Weasley, Rose!'

She sat down and the Hat fell over her eyes. She waited.

'Ah, yes. Rose Weasley. I remember sorting your mother.'

_Don't sort me because of my parents,_ thought Rose. _ Please,_ she added as an afterthought. Mum always said it was important to be polite.

'Why, of course not. I never do that! You'll join GRYFFINDOR!'

* * *

***I'm not a good enough poet to write the Sorting Hat's song, I found it here, all credit to the writer. t5552-sorting-hat-s-orignial-song**


End file.
